Not today…

Someday I will find my peace.

Even in the things I dearly miss.

For the things that I never had, what’s the point in being so sad?

Someday I will come to terms with the half filled glasses and empty spaces. 

But not today.

Someday I will try to change what I don’t like. 

Someday I will find the missing piece of the puzzle or at least the dots will join.

I will chase the days and not dreamy nights. I will create smiles on their faces and not just word arts.

Someday acceptance will come at no cost, and “what if” will be amusement and not the path that’s lost.
Someday. 

But not today.

Today, just take me away. 

To a faraway land, where no one would know my name and where I come from. 

Where my fantasies would be realities just for a while long. 

Where I would tell my tales to bring smiles, 

where people would not read name tags but eyes. 

I would find my fountain of small joys. 

I would return home without needing stars to guide.

Someday. 

But not today. 

Oh not today. Today just let me be.

Right where I am with my random musings. 
Today just let me drift. 

Oh today.Just for today.

Almost

I don’t have a yellow umbrella. I did go to them with a blue French horn but they decided not to come to the window. I do take a peek from my window once in a while, maybe, just maybe…I socialise at parties with a ballot box costume, no luck yet. I am waiting for my Goliath National Bank building to happen; which someday I will point at and say-‘This is my creation’. I am almost there, but just almost. 

In this series of missed chances, mistakes and wrong choices, some wins and but most failures, nothings and broken heart pieces, do you know how I survived and what kept me going all these years? It was you Ted. 

You taught me to make mistakes even though I knew it was one; because I had to, to learn. You inspired me to still go on, to doubt and yet believe in everything. Even though Universe is too busy with important things, I still look for signs from it. Somewhere may be I will spot my yellow school bus or bass guitar and find my calling. You made me feel okay to be scared, to take chances and to hopelessly cling on to hope. 

There was a profound truth in what you said about beauty in the unfinished arts. And along the way I came to terms with my ‘almosts’, almost started loving them.  

I know one day a moment will come when I will look back and all the dots will be connected. I know one day I will walk into the classroom full of students and I will know this is where I belong. I know one day when I am almost ready to leave, I will find him at the platform with a yellow umbrella in hand. It will be your voice which will tell me to go and say, “Hi.”

Until then I am picking up every lucky penny, cherishing a locket as a sign from the  Universe and living in my almost…

Inglorious Battle

Once in a while comes that day,

When Empire strikes and Death Eaters block my way.

For next door neighbour, it is just a Saturday;

To friends & family, I sound happier than weekday.

Little do they know, I am desperate to find a wand,

barely even holding lightsaber in my hand.

“Obi-wan Kenobi, you are my only hope.”

“Remember to tun on lights” Dumbledore, you once told.

But where are you two when I need you the most?

For universe this is a meaningless flake, 

But for me, my entire world is at stake. 

I know I am not a superhero and to call myself a ‘victim’ will be gutsy. 

May be a fool wounded by reality and locked up in fantasy?

Well now. It is just me. Nothing less, nothing more.

Deep breath. Count till five. Defying gravity, here I dive.

The only super power I hope I have, I bring it to my aid.

The false army of my vanity is already dead. 

Armed with only my pen and words, I conjure up the spell of thought.

On the scared home ground of ink &  paper, my inglorious battle is fought. 

Wounded. Beaten. Exhausted. Dishearten. 

I wonder if I want the day to end or begin again.

Because my tomorrows always hold a promise;

a promise of a new battle…

Curled up in bed, scrambling for strength

until dreams take the pain &  pen away-

Then again, every once in a while comes that day,

When Empire strikes and Death Eaters block my way. 

Namma Bengaluru

I don’t know when, I don’t know how

But Bangalore became my own town.

Are three years long enough they asked?

Is my illogical reasoning strong enough they asked?

Of course I curse at traffic and wince at burning lakes

In the criss-cross of smaller mains, one step of change is what it takes.

Breath of fresh air at Cubbon park,

Weather changing like mood swings 

And rare sights of Gulmohor like finding a lost ark.

Stumble upon MG and 100 feet again & again,

Chickpet has its charm & Commercial lives upto its name

Darshanis & breweries side by side,

Pick your vice-Filer Coffee or Amruth on ice.

I don’t know when, I don’t know how

But Bangalore became my own town.

Oh, and the people…

Warm, welcoming, ever so smiling.

Showed me a place for best idli & kapi,

Invited home for local recipe. 

And some, just guided me to my house, 

when the stars were not shining…

Techies, poets, singers & writers,

Passionate art lovers, pet owners,

Start up strugglers & life jugglers;

Found them all at quaint cafes

They all had found something, in their Bangalore days.

From “gotilla” to “swalpa”, has been quite a journey;

From house to home, that will be some day.

Yes, you may miss the sea, chaat & ginger tea.

Beat of night, pace, free roads and structures 

There will always be something missing…

But it is Bangalore. It has something of it’s own yet just not quite there. 

A long way to go; but’ don’t give up, there is a pure lake somewhere. 

Are these changes good enough they asked?

Is my illogical reasoning strong enough they asked?

Enough said and enough shown.

I don’t know when, don’t know how.

But Bangalore became my own town...

Beyond all the cliches…

It’s a mirage. Some claim to have found it, some claim to have lost it. But nobody has the first clue about it.

Never understood this love. But always wondered about it. Somehow I am never thrilled by the bond which is defined by the looks, habits, likings or convenience…walk under the stars, conversation over coffee, knowing all the favourites, shoulder to cry on, nostalgic dance, saving from misery; always felt too shallow an expression for love. These are just cliches. Shouldn’t this all consuming, much eluding, most searched glorious thing called “love” deserve a befitting definition? And much purer expression? “Always” said Castle and Kate while fighting together for justice everyday, Cap agreed to avenge because Peggy believed it was right, Leia stayed back for Solo to escape safely, Neo was born out of Trinity’s belief and a stronger was Will & Mac’s bond with the shared vision of purity of fourth estate. We saw them as tells of superheroes, dramas and mystery. But above all, weren’t they all nothing but the most profound love stories one could ever find? Shouldn’t this strongest emotion, which humanity so proudly claims to posses, born out of a larger cause than a mere attraction? 

At the world’s end, there is a place for you and I. Beyond the black & white, a shade of grey. Beyond the expectations, a place of admiration. Beyond all the wins and losses, a battle worth fighting for. Beyond all the labels, a true sense of being. Beyond all the cliches, there is a place for you and I.

Dil ke zaronke se

Zamana  ishq karta raha aur hum ishq ko samajh ne me waqt jayar kar gaye. 

Do baaten duniya ko samjha di,  par kudh to fir bhi nadan reh gaye.

Mauka mila jab dil ki bazı lagane ka

Tab jeet ke dar se, khud se hi haarte gaye.

------------------------------------------

Ae zindagi ab teri sharten hai na-manjoor.

Meri khwaishonko na saza de, hai ye zamanen ka kasoor.

Mana ke chahat pe ada, mera dil bhi hai thoda majboor. 

Par kya karega baghi? Zindagi is par tera hi to hai suroor. 

-------------------------------------------

Ae zindagi aise jeene ki aadat na dal, kabhi kisi pe marne ki izazat na hogi.

Tanhai me jeene ki ibadat na kar, humsafar se kisi din shikayat si hogi.

------------------------------------------

Kabhi kisi maud par fir mulakat hogi

Adhuri si thi jo thi fir wahi baat hogi.

Aadha sa izhar aur pura sa inkar,

Fir koi shuru takrar hogi.

Shayad khatam ho ne ko hi, nayi shuruwat hogi

Kabhi kisi maud par fir mulakat hogi.

-----------------------------------------

Dil ke andhere ko roshni de us shayri ki aas hai

Tere dehlij par chod aaye the us mohobbat ki talash hai.

Khayalon ne zinda rakha hai dil ko

Sawal zindagi ke to yuhi mar dete.

Umeed ki baazi lagayi hai, jannab,

Warna ishq ke khel me kab ka har jate.

---------------------------------------------

E dil-e-nadan teri khatan kya hai? Dard me milite khushi me rakha kya hai?

Tufano me kashti dal ke ab tak jee rahe the, aaj sahilon pe utarke na pucho saja kya hai?

----------------------------------------

Gawara hai zindagi se koi shikayat rakhna,

Ek gila zindagi ko hum se bhi hai.

Sans lena yaad rakhte hai har pal

Par kya wo lamha hum jeete bhi hai? 

Coffee.

It has always been about a conversation. It has always been about a world with you and me.

Sometimes they said, they did not enjoy coffee, sometimes their choice of vice was tea. 

I did’t bother because coffee has always been about you and me. 

Then coffee became a habit or was it just about you? 

But then you said one day, it’s just  about what it is. Oh you loved coffee still but now your world was new.

Coffee still remained about a conversation. And about a world lost within me and just memories of you.

We don't know it yet, but may be we are winning!

The best oscar acceptance speeches have never been heard on TV or discussed on social media. They remain safely with the shampoo bottles and high school trophies. Back pages of the old notebook has scene many more autographs and so many school science projects have smiled at the dreams of Nobel laureates. Tennis racket behind the door is still waiting to kiss the Wimbledon grass court. Small pubs, near the tech parks and shiny glass towers, now hold all these secrets. It was never about the fame or the money or the fad, deep down it was always about that feeling of winning. The achievement after the long toil, oasis after a long road in the desert, that feeling of hard work being paid off. Life now is about salary and promotions on a path of pretences and existentialist crisis. But the search of that feeling is on. Kudos from boss, pat from colleagues, a thumbs up from a client; does it live up to the feeling we are searching for? For some of us may be, for most of us not. 

It was tough getting up early for that 8 am meeting specially after handling family crisis a night before, managing house on our own is tough and still we managed the submission of that analysis document over weekend. No we didn’t deserve it  but we got into that shit anyway and we put up a smile in front of the people around, that was indeed brave. Mediocracy was never a curse, who so ever made us believe that, was wrong. Because, through our academic and professional life, reaching above average was an achievement we never gave ourselves credit for. We were never happy being at the middle of bell curve, we always aspired for the top, doesn’t  that sheer will to reach for stars  separates us from rest? May be we don’t know this yet. But just getting by this mundane day, doing our best every moment, bringing smile on someone’s face, being a friend’s shoulder to lean on, trying to be a pillar for the family, giving our seat to a stranger in a metro or just telling ourselves ‘ let’s do better next day’; may be all this counts for something. May be that shampoo bottle knew, may be that autograph in an old notebook had guessed it back then that we will win someday. It might not feel like, but these collective moments will give us that feeling we are searching for. May be we don't’ it yet, but we are winning! 

Broken

“Sometimes, the seemingly most cowardly acts have the boldest intents. But unfortunately, only the acts are seen and judged but the intents get clouded” 

 Sadly, she knows this heroic philosophical thought is just her attempt to make peace with herself. 

Letting him go was the toughest decision she had taken. Decision that was right for him for very wrong reasons and possibly wrong for her for many right reasons. How could she have possibly made him understand why leaving him was the only offering she had in response to his immense love & passion? How could she have told him that he could have become her Mr. Right but she just couldn’t have been his perfect Lady Love? How could she have made him believe that this was not out of lack of love but the presence of purest form of it?

She had put up a coward face of being emotionally dysfunctional, of going by head over heart. But the bravely fought melee within was always about the strongest emotions. He had said, not being together would be the regret in future. How could she have convinced him that this regret is something she can live with but can’t bear the regret of being together and hurting him?

Burdened with guilt and unknown fear now she desperately attempts to resurrect her wounded soul. It is not easy. It is un-conventional and most of all never understood by anyone.His hurt and pain will always be justified. It will have tag of a broken heart. It will be tended with sympathies and in time it will be healed when he meets his love again. But no one will ever know or understand the excruciating pain in the broken corner of her heart which she will have to bear like a pin prick for years to come without even her future love, if any, realising it needs healing. This pricking pain and guilt will be her retribution cloud and the strength acquired after enduring this pain will be his silver lining. 

All said and done, she will always be guilty of breaking his heart and no amount of radical perception can change that naked truth. She will always be spoken as being fickle & selfish and he will always be respected for his actions inspired from this unfathomable force of love.In time to come, things will fall in place and in his happy song, hopefully she will find the notes of her solace. 

But for now, universe is with him. There are heroic legends, there are songs and even fellow travellers for him to move on. But for her, there is only her own shadow. There is broken heart, misplaced dreams and broken faith for her to hold on.

Her Parents’ Daughter

“Tell her, classes are more important. She is anyways coming home for Diwali.” Mira said while leaving the room.
 “I heard her Dad” said a disappointed voice from the other end of the phone. 
Vinayak gave “the looks" to his wife and put on his “I am your friend not Dad” hat to console their daughter. “I know this semester’s subjects are not that interesting. But don’t miss collage for this party. It is going to be boring. Mom’s colleagues and friends. All adults, you will be bored. Not worth the trouble that’s all. Listen, I am getting late for work. I will call you later. Take care beta.”

 He picked up his shoulder bag, car keys and left the room to join Mira at the breakfast table. Next thirty minutes were dragged with trivial small talks, tip toeing around the topic of the hour.
 “Vinu, I just think a little distance would do good. Of course I want her to be around. But she needs to learn discipline and get more serious about studies. Boarding school decision was ours, not mine alone” Mira spoke defensively. 
She had rested both her elbows on the table with hands clasped. “I am not saying anything” Vinayak said without looking up at her. “Exactly. You not saying anything, has said a lot. You are stirring your coffee from past five minutes. I can read your face” said Mira getting up from the table. 
Vinayak looked up, their moist gaze met with with each other. “Miru, we are not bad parents and not at all bad people. We are doing it for her own good. Stop beating your self. You are not guilty of anything” he said, stressing on each word. 
“It sure doesn’t feel like that” said Mira while picking up her stuff and storming out of the kitchen. 

Mira came back from her clinic at around five. She saw, Vinayak’s car was already parked in the garage. He had planned to come home early, to prepare for the party which was to be hosted over weekend. Vinayak was in the back yard, clearing up some old boxes. She froze at the door when she saw him holding the old racket set and getting all choked up. He and Aarna used to play badminton a lot. It was their Sunday routine. Aarna was really good at it. 
“Aarna would have been twenty this year.” thought Vinayak. He looked over at the frisbee they had bought for her. Just like her parents, she was fond of all these outdoor activities. “But Aadya, well, she barely comes out of her room. Always with her headphones. I don’t even remember when was the last time I spent  quality time with her. She is nothing like either of us. How can she even be?” Vinayak laughed at his own thoughts. It is difficult for human beings to accept the truth especially if it is putting themselves in the bad light. That struggle of acceptance manifests into different emotions, for Vinayak it was anger. In the next split second he threw away the rackets and kicked that box of old stuff. Mira came rushing towards him. 
She had always been the stronger of the two. She hugged and held him close, “It’s all right.You only said, we are not bad parents. We will get it right.” 

Poonam came early to help Mira and Vinayak with the set up. “Hey there birthday girl, looking good. Blue again?” Poonam hugged her friend lovingly at the door as Mira welcomed her. 
“Girl?? I am fifty today, Pu. And you are late.” Both of them walked inside the common room. “Speaking of girl, where is yours? Is she coming?” Poonam asked. 
Mira just made a face and Poonam realised she had touched a nerve. After all, their friendship went back to school days. They had been by each others’ side through all the ups and downs. When Aadya’s reckless and rebellious behavioural traits became visible, Mira requested Poonam to counsel her. Poonam was a psychologist, but child physiology was not her expertise. She still agreed as they all wanted to keep this matter discrete. Mira and Vinayak had been through a lot, they did not need  another episode of people in their social circle gossiping around. Aadya’s tantrums at few of the social events had already given people enough to talk about. “Look Mira, I am speaking to you as her doctor now and not your friend. I have been telling you this, pushing her away will not help. You need to be with her to help her though this. She is showing real progress.” 
That sparked a little heated discussion between the two friends, Vinayak also joined the conversation. It was not new; they had been having this discussion for months now. Poonam struck a final blow. “Don’t punish her for not being Aarna”. Immediately realising  that she went a little far, Poonam apologised. 
A door bell saved the heaviness in the room from further thickening. As the guests started pouring in, mood lightened. And then just before they were about to start dinner, door bell rang again. “I will get it” said Vinayak and opened the door. “What a surprise beta. How did you? Why didn’t you tell us?” Aadya entered with a small bag-pack and her guitar; wearing a nice blue dress and heels. With a big smile on her face she went and hugged Mira, “Happy 50th Mom. Liked my surprise?” Mira was happy and startled at the same time, she did not know exactly how to react. “Did you take a flight? When did you book? How did you manage?” She asked while giving a questioning glance at Vinayak. “Ofhoo. Questions later. I have one more surprise for you” she said, while taking out a pen drive from her bag-pack. 
Aadya gathered everyone near the TV and started the video. First picture popped up on the screen; It was of three of them, taken on the day they brought her home. Aadya was barely three years old. It was received with awws and gasps in the room. Then there were series of video messages from Mira’s friends, family and colleagues at the hospital. There were few recent photos of Aadya and Mira; both of them were posing with the head tilted sideways a little. Some one even commented, “Look at her Mira, she has picked up your trademark pose”. Mira and Vinayak were standing in the middle of the room with their hands held tightly. Aadya was standing near the TV, looking at everyone with the same big smile. Mira observed her. She was looking tall today in that blue dress, nicely cleaned up, hair falling on the shoulder. 
Mira was seeing her after almost six months. Suddenly she felt Aadya had grown up and no longer was the teenager who had give them a hard time for the last one year. Interesting how human mind is; when you notice one small thing about some one, suddenly it starts a chain reaction and you start picking on all those finer things which you had missed earlier. Mira realised how Aadya’s wardrobe was also in the shades of blue like hers, how she also wore an anklet in one leg and rolled a hair strand softly behind her ears while reacting to compliments, just like Mira. After the video screening, Aadya played a small self composed song on her guitar, dedicated to Mira. Every one was all in praise for her. Aadya was clearly the show’s topper of the evening. She even mixed up and socialised with the guests over dinner. 
Vinayak was sitting next to Aadya when desserts were served. He was asking her about how she booked her travel, how she managed to contact everyone for the video messages. He observed she had taken out resins from the custard at the side of the plate, just like he had. “Aadu, you too?” He pointed at her plate. “ Yah. I don’t like them in the custard.” she said with her typical bunny rabbit expression. Vinayak chuckled and said encouragingly, “I know, right? Me neither. By the way, don’t tell your Mom.” “Of course. It is our little secret Dad. I have enough of lectures in collage, don’t want one on food habit” Aadya replied excitingly. 
Party was at the fag end; “must get going” and “what a lovely party” conversations were building up. Srikant was discussing with Poonam about one latest article in the Medical Journal. The article was about the role DNA plays in shaping up personality traits and human behaviour. “So Mira, what’s your take? Nature or Nurture? Don’t you think Dr. Sriram’s sample set was not completely representative?” Mira was looking past their shoulders. Aadya was showing her Guitar to Vinayak and explaining some thing. Their smiling and happy faces was all the data point she needed. “They always find a way to balance each other” Mira replied. Srikant didn’t understand the comment, but Poonam did. 
Some one called in for few photos and selfies. Poonam volunteered to take the family photo of Mira, Vinayak and Aadya. That photo did look like three different pieces fitting together, strikingly different shades giving rise to a beautiful modern art. “Great job with the video, dear.  And you have a lovely voice. Your parents are zero when it comes to Art and Music. You are so different than either of them.” One of the guests commented. Everyone laughed at the light leg pulling. Some one took the opportunity to take a jibe, “These two are so quiet and simple folks. I hear you are the chatterbox, the drama queen of the house.” 
While the laughter continued, Aadya’s face lost it’s colour. “You are not their daughter” is what she read through those comments. Mira quickly wrapped her hand around her, pulled her closer and said lovingly, “Well, she is still her parents’ daughter”. 
That three year old, from the picture which was still paused on the TV screen, was smiling in the comfort of having found new parents. 

Overtime

He carefully measured  freshly brewed coffee powder, poured it in a filter and started the espresso machine. The aroma behind the counter just heightened. With lightning speed he took a “Grande” size cup from the shelf and placed it neatly below the espresso nozzle. His actions were swift and mechanical. Although it wasn’t crowded at this hour, he was just so used to this set routine. He was trained in this routine to minimise service time. He was also trained to greet the customers and smile at them. But when the regulars walked inside the cafe every day usually around 8.30 in the late evening, his smiles and greetings were genuine. 

This Starbucks was just convenient for Anushka. It was right in the campus of her office in Brigade Towers. After a long day at work, one cup of “tall Americano with cream” is all what she needed to get her spirits up.But almost all the time, she took a take away in a hurry to avoid getting stuck in traffic on Outer Ring road to her home in CV Raman Nagar. It was only since past few days she had started doing overtime at work and had started opting for “have it here” option.Her spot was also fixed; last side table by the window with a view of the mall, bustling with noise and lights. Coincidently it was Sameer’s favourite spot too. But he has been enjoying late evening coffee at that table for almost a month now. But they never had crossed paths at cafe so much to start a conversation; at times had only exchanged few pleasantries. But today was different, somehow the timings matched and this conversation happened. 

“Do you mind?” Sameer pointed at the empty chair in front of her. Giving quite a deliberate glance over the almost empty sitting area, Anushka replied, “ Sure. Clearly I don’t see any other empty seat”. Taken aback by the mean sarcasm Sameer almost snapped, “Hey. Don’t be rude. Actually this is my usual spot. Don’t bother, I will sit somewhere else”. 

“I am sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude. Please have a seat. This is my Sheldon spot too” Anushka said. With a silent chuckle Sameer settled himself in the chair wondering if he was little out of the line by insisting to sit at that table. 

“So you also come here regularly?” Anushka broached the silence. 

“ Yah. From past couple of weeks actually. Same time, same place”  Sameer smiled. 

“Wow. You seem to be doing overtime at work. Didn’t know you product guys also have to stay this late?” Anushka said it in a little mischievous yet caustic tone.

“Hey, it’s not like only you business folks have so much work on their plate." Words came out of his mouth like darts fired and landed straight into Anushka’s coffee mug. Anushka took the onus on her to swiftly change the topic. 

“ I was just kidding ya. Actually, I like to come here just to catch a little break from everything.”

It could have been his over enthusiastic imagination but he did feel that on this sentence, Anushka’s smile really didn’t reach her eyes. There was more to that “everything” than just work. But shrugging off that thought he too replied with similar “because I am really expected to” smile, “Ya. Tell me about it. Now a days  I actually  look forward to my coffee time here.”

“ I am sorry to have intruded in your lone coffee time then.” 

“Nah nah..Technically I was the one who intruded. Anyways, a fellow coffee lover company is always welcomed.” 

Half completing her sip, Anushka threw the words quite excitedly, “ Let us make a deal. We won’t talk about work at all for the next 30 mins we are here.We will talk about anything else…coffee, other interests, movies…”

“ Deal. Although I have an objection. Why just 30 minutes? I don’t mind staying till they shut the cafe. It’s high time Bangalore should do something about this 11 clock deadline”

“Yah, Only weekend extension is not enough. But I guess it's enough for this break. I don’t think I have a luxury of so much time today. Well, Mr. Sameer, some of us have people waiting at home, so." For some reason she gave a quick glance at her wedding ring as if to make sure it is there. A voice inside was laughing and telling her, “That’s it. That dreadful day has arrived. You have turned into a typical “married” girl, using “family” as an excuse."

“Madam, I have a family  too.” Not just words but he also flashed his phone in front of her with the photo of his wife and a few months old kid. “It’s just…you see…it’s good to catch such breaks”. Rest of the words couldn’t really come out of his mouth, they lingered somewhere in his thoughts. 

“ Yah, I get it. A little time to yourself is much needed at times. And that’s Kartik, right? How many months old now?” She gave a courtesy smile. 

“ Six months.” Both of them were now looking down at their half finished coffee mugs, aimlessly fiddling with the stirrer. Not knowing what exactly to talk to break this silence, Anushka just spoke the first words which she could think of, “But don’t you wait eagerly to get back home and see your little baby?” He knew it was a casual and most natural enquiry yet those words pricked Sameer and then next it was his guilt speaking, “Hey it’s not like I am avoiding going home early. But at times it is too much… gets on your nerve. I…” Then came the realisation of sharing too much when not required and he bit his tongue.  Anushka was taken aback and she almost felt like ducking to avoid those words from falling on her. “ I am sorry. I did not mean that" is all she managed to say. Then again there was that long awkward silence. 

Sameer was not even listening. He was already lost in his thoughts. He was thinking if these are the exact words he should use to talk to his wife.His was the same old story. They were not ready but nobody ever is. But soon they realised that it is a big responsibility. They had to bring so many changes in their lifestyles; less social hang outs and a hectic routine with work and a kid. Everyday he looked at his wife; hopeful, confused, helpless and guilty. And he was met with the same glance. Overtime at work and late evening coffee was just his excuse to stay away from home. He didn’t feel proud about it. Probably most married people do this at some point or the other in their lives. He just felt guilty and helpless. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he can’t handle responsibilities and was acting like a coward. 

Barista’s loud and enthusiastic “Welcome to Starbucks” halted his guilt train. As if woken up from a quick nap, he looked up and met with Anushka’s concerned gaze. She was clearly trying to put two and two together. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business but any trouble at home?” Anushka tried to put up a matured face while in her head little devil was mocking her as if telling her, “You have glass walls, don't throw stones at others”. While she was almost hoping that Sameer will avoid the question and change topic, he just got carried away. Even Sameer was surprised. It was as if his brain had no control over his heart which was pouring out all the pent up thoughts and feelings having found a listening ear after a long time. Sometimes it is just easy to open up to a stranger.

Fortunately the awkward silence was filled by barista’s “Last order” from behind the counter. Slowly the heaviness in the air also dialled down.After patiently listening to Sameer, Anushka took a good one minute to put together her response. “So Sameer, thank you.” That was unexpected. Sameer was not just surprised to hear that but was strangely irritated. He thought Anushka was kidding but she had her poker face. He did not know how to react.

“ No I really mean it. I know you are expecting some sympathy here or advice may be. But you reinforced my decision. Sort of helped me mitigate the tiny guilt I had”

“ Okay, now you lost me. What are you talking about?”

She took a deep breath and said with a tone of a confession. “ So listening to your predicament , I realised there is no point in rushing into these decisions of having a kid until you are ready. I mean why make that child suffer due to our wrong decisions or lack of responsibility, right? I am even more convinced now, about my decision of not keeping it.  You know what, you should talk to Aditya. He wants this baby. We are having a huge fight over it. But who knows if he  also starts doing “overtime” like you when we actually have this kid and I drown myself in work just so that I can  run away from responsibilities?” 

Sameer was baffled and shocked. Out of all the  expected responses,  this was never even on his mind. Anushka had this strange expression on her face; that expression of relief when somebody tells you “It is not your fault”. But Sameer was not ready to take that burden on his shoulder and be the reason or inspiration for ending a life so to speak. This was completely unexpected. How does somebody even react to that? 

“Hey hey hey, now hold on. Don’t thank me and all. It’s your personal decision. I am Pro Choice and all. But it’s not as grave as you are making it sound like. I am stupid. It’s my momentary laps. I will recover for sure. I mean unless you jump into the water you will never learn how to swim. I know I am sounding cliche here but I am just saying don’t make your decision based on one jerk like me. Just be open to both the options. okay?”  Tables were turned. Sameer was actually surprised that he could talk sense.

Anushka just gave a faint smile and nodded. Coffee was over long time back and as both of them realised so was the conversation. Sameer was the first one to get up hurriedly. “ Good night. See you tomorrow at work. And thank you” 

“Will save up a seat for you here” Anushka asked with an unspoken question mark at the end. 

“Amm…I dont think I will be doing overtime from tomorrow" Sameer replied with a clam yet serious face, a face of someone who has just had a self reveleation. As he was about to get inside his car, he looked back. Anushka was standing near her car searching for  keys in her bag. He had this strange thought. He paused for a moment but then immediately shouted, “It was all made up. You said that just to make me realise my mistake without sounding preachy. Right? One brilliant move. There cant be so much of a coincidence. It can't be true? right?" Anushka  just stared right back at him. For the first time today evening she had a mischievous grin on her face which reflected in her eyes. “Why would you say so? It can be true. Good night Sameer. Give my regards to Krithika  and Kartik”. She got inside her car, started the engine and drove away. Sameer looked at her car going away with a confused expression. He was impressed by Anushka’s move and started dialling Krithika as his car took a reverse on a driveway.

Somewhere on the ninth floor balcony of Jain Heights at C V Raman Nagar, Aditya was standing, staring at the city sky line. His phone blinked. “ On way home. I am ready to discuss. Please wait up”.

Back at the acafe, barista had locked up the cafe door. He was about to start his bike when his phone vibrated in his pocket. “ Bhai enough with your overtimes. Come home fast. Mom and Dad are fighting again. I cant take it alone”